Captive

by Cheryl Brooks

  “So if I say something like the time has come, they won’t need me anymore?”

  “Could be. In fact, you may have already done the most significant part of the job simply by showing up.”

  Klara couldn’t help but laugh. “If only the rest of it were that easy.”

  “It might be easier than you think. More akin to falling off a log than summoning the courage to lead an army into battle.” He paused. “Not that it won’t require some courage.”

  She gasped with dismay as his meaning became clear. “You aren’t suggesting what I think you’re suggesting. Are you?”

  “Maybe,” he replied. “Been giving this some thought. They need a goal. Not so much someone to fight against, but someone to fight for. Something more tangible than an ideology.”

  “But if we die in the process? What then?”

  “Oh, I don’t believe it’ll come to that. Not if we play it right.”

  Where there had once been soothing warmth, a cold chill of dread gripped her heart. Their lives were already in jeopardy, and she’d seen how easily and irrevocably life could be snuffed out.

  “Pelarus doesn’t want you dead, or you’d have been killed long ago. The Nedwuts have been bleeding you—and him—dry by prolonging the process of capturing you. They’re getting paid twice for a job they still haven’t managed to complete. A job they really have no incentive to finish. You’ll be safe enough.”

  “Yes, but what about you? If they don’t kill you on sight, you’ll be sent to the arena.” Once again, she had a sneaking suspicion that if he were to be killed, she wouldn’t outlive him by much.

  “Klara, sweetheart, you’ve seen me fight. Do you really think I can’t win a few turns in the arena?”

  “Maybe so, but you can’t outrun a pulse beam, and there’s no guarantee your opponents will fight fair. They might even be given an advantage by Pelarus himself.” She shuddered at the prospect of Moe, alone and unarmed, against a gang of cutthroats who were armed to the teeth.

  “Okay. We don’t have to set out to take that route, but if it happens—and I wouldn’t discount the possibility that it will—we need to have an alternate plan in place.”

  “We’d be separated. You realize that, don’t you?” The prospect of being kept in different prison cells was nearly as horrible as being separated by death.

  He cupped her cheek with a gentle hand. “There are no guarantees in war, Klara. You know that as well as I do. I—”

  “Okay, you two,” Temfilk shouted from beyond the closed door. “I can hear you talking in there. Doesn’t sound a bit like fun and games to me. You need to come out now. It’s time for breakfast, and I’m starving!”

  “Give him a few regular meals and already he expects them,” Klara muttered as she threw off the blanket and sat up—or tried to. Their discussion might’ve circumvented the whole laetralance thing, but that didn’t mean she was operating at full capacity. Her bones still felt like warm jelly. “Give us a minute,” she yelled back. “I’m not really awake yet.”

  A snort sounded from Temfilk’s direction. “Since when have you ever had trouble waking up?”

  “Since today,” she snapped. “That’s what happens when a sleep-deprived person actually gets to sleep through the night.”

  Temfilk cackled with glee. “Guess we can call that the Moe Effect, huh?”

  “Call it whatever you like,” she grumbled. Swaying slightly as she pushed off from the bed, she steadied herself by adopting a wider stance before standing upright through sheer force of will.

  “You aren’t dizzy, are you?” Moe sounded a tiny bit anxious, and understandably so. This was not the time to go into heat—or whatever a Zetithian woman’s fertile period was called.

  “No,” she replied. “Just feeling the snard, minus the blissful laetralance part.”

  Despite her assurances, he was out of the bed and by her side with an arm around her waist before she had time to draw another breath.

  She shot him a sidelong glare. “You, on the other hand, appear to be feeling perfectly well.”

  “And then some,” he said with an unrepentant grin. “One of the better mornings of my life, actually.”

  “I’m glad you think so.” If they’d been about to embark upon anything aside from a revolution, she would’ve said the same. But in light of that “alternative plan” discussion, it seemed more like the calm before the storm.

  A really nasty storm.

  Moe pulled on his clothes, wishing Velkma’s hospitality included breakfast in bed.

  Nah. Too much to hope for.

  Especially since he’d never had breakfast in bed in his life. That could change, though. He could buy one of those expensive housekeeping bots and—

  I don’t even have a ship now.

  Nor had they ever made it to the bank. If Pelarus’s influence extended to the local banking system, which it probably did, he might even be denied access. Had Moe been in Pelarus’s place, freezing Moe’s account would have been his first move.

  “We never did get to the bank yesterday,” he said as he stepped into his boots.

  “I’m sure the local ladies would be happy to escort you. They might even get you there safely.”

  Moe sincerely hoped so. One night alone with Klara wasn’t enough by any means. If he had money to spend on supplies, there would be no need to go off half-cocked. They could take a week or two to hone their strategy with no fear of the gang eating poor Velkma and her neighbors out of house and home. “A bodyguard of children might be better. Something tells me those Nedwuts would have no qualms about firing a wide stun beam into a crowd of women.”

  “Kids wouldn’t stop them,” Klara said. “Certainly didn’t stop them from killing my brothers.”

  “Open mouth, insert foot,” Moe muttered. “Sorry. Wasn’t thinking. Was remembering a scene from Raiders of the Lost Ark, which, of course, you’ve never seen. Come to think of it, most people have never seen that movie, since it was made over a thousand years ago.”

  “You’re really strange. You know that, don’t you?”

  “Blame it on my peculiar upbringing.” He peered at her closely, noting that her tone seemed a little…off, somehow. Then it hit him. “You’ve never seen a movie, have you?”

  Focusing on her boots, rather than meeting his gaze, she shook her head. “I don’t even know what one is.”

  Given the level of technology Moe had grown up with, he hadn’t considered how many things he took for granted that someone living as Klara had done would know nothing about. Again, he felt the need to apologize.

  “Sorry, Klara. But if we ever get off this world and back on my ship—or my mother’s ship—I’ll be able to introduce you to all sorts of cool things. You’ll be amazed at the different forms of entertainment, transportation, and laborsaving devices. Bots, movies, holograms—stuff like that. Most worlds aren’t like this one.”

  He’d avoided calling Haedus primitive, but by current standards, it was quite backward indeed. Hopefully, the banking system wasn’t as archaic. The funds for the cargo he’d delivered had been transferred to his account via his comlink. He’d verified the deposit, but whether it would show up in the records of a local bank remained to be seen. Unlike him, most traders probably didn’t stay on Haedus long enough to find out.

  She nodded, still opting to look anywhere but at him.

  He could understand why she might be feeling a little self-conscious, given the intimacies they’d just shared. But this sudden shyness seemed out of character, even for that. Was she ashamed of the planet? Or the type of society that had evolved—or devolved—there?

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  Again, she nodded without speaking.

  “No, you aren’t.” Pushing her to explain might have been tacky, but already, he cared enough to want to be sure he wasn’t causing her any discomfort, however inadvertently. “You can tell me, Klara. Believe me, I’ll understand.”

  She blew out a breath. “
I feel so…ignorant when you talk about such things. Things I never knew existed.”

  He took a step closer, longing to take her in his arms and comfort her, but instinct told him to hold back, at least for now. “That isn’t your fault, Klara. You’ve done the best you could to survive, which is a remarkable feat in itself. You aren’t responsible for the way things are here. After hearing Velkma’s story, there are plenty of others that can be held accountable. Not you.” He gave into the need to touch her, tipping her lovely but troubled face toward his with a finger beneath her chin. “Never you.”

  Her tiny nod did nothing to erase her distress, yet her lips formed a slight pout rather than the grim line he might’ve expected. They were in the perfect position…

  So he kissed her.

  If he lived to be a thousand years old, he would never tire of the feel of her lips against his own. Soft, warm, and brimming with a flavor that was at once both savory and sweet, they were a blend that appealed to him on every conceivable level.

  Sighing against his lips, she melted into his embrace, parting her lips to welcome the slow thrust of his tongue. His purr began seemingly of its own accord, a change as natural as breathing. Within moments, her scent altered to become laden with desire. His body responded instantly, filling him with the need to bury his engorged cock in her warmth, loving her until she dissolved into a puddle of laetralant delight.

  “Getting kinda quiet in there,” Temfilk hollered through the door. “Breakfast is on the table and getting cold. You wouldn’t want Velkma to think you didn’t appreciate her cooking, would you?”

  Moe tore his lips from hers with the utmost reluctance. “We’re coming.” In an under voice, he added, “Or we would if you’d leave us be.”

  Klara giggled, a sound as musical as it was endearing, one that satisfied him almost as much as actual intercourse would have done.

  Almost.

  But if he could draw enough laughter to banish the worried look from her luminous blue eyes, he was content.

  For now.

  Sitting down to breakfast with her gang after a restful night was an event Klara never imagined she would ever experience. Even less would she have guessed she would be sitting next to a man like Moe. She had always known such men existed, but her chances of actually meeting one were so infinitesimal, fate or some higher power had to be responsible. She couldn’t imagine any random Zetithian man capturing her heart so easily. Especially a heart she had always suspected was incapable of that kind of...

  Love?

  The chemistry was definitely there between them, but love? She wasn’t sure about that. She didn’t know whether the whole mating process even required love. Perhaps it didn’t. Perhaps love came later. Either way, she could already feel her life becoming inextricably entwined with his, and it had happened with unbelievable speed. Simply sitting beside him was almost as special as sharing a bed and the lovemaking that went with it.

  “You’re awfully quiet this morning,” Nexbit commented as he passed her a platter of roasted aubergat stalks. “Didn’t sleep well?”

  She needed every ounce of her resolve to keep from glowering at the Sympaticon. “I slept very well, thank you. I’m just…thinking.”

  Nexbit nodded. “We do have plenty of food for thought these days. Like how we weren’t set upon by Nedwuts during the night. Can’t believe they haven’t found us yet.”

  “No one found you because you were protected,” Velkma said.

  “How?” Nexbit asked.

  “We have our ways,” the old woman replied. “Ways we have learned over time.”

  By that, Klara assumed she had no intention of sharing the secret, which was probably for the best. If they didn’t know the secret, they couldn’t betray it.

  “I don’t know why I’m so sleepy,” Temfilk said with a yawn.

  “Must be all the food you’ve eaten since yesterday,” Nexbit said. “Nobody could stay awake after that.”

  “Speak for yourself,” Temfilk snapped. “I’ve seen how much you’ve put away. My intake is nothing compared to yours.”

  The Racks began chattering as the platter of stalks reached them, almost as though they’d been handed a feast. Klara started to remark on this until she recalled the last time they’d had such a treat. “Those are your favorites, aren’t they, Bik?”

  “Yah, boss,” Bik replied.

  She waited for him to say more, but of course he didn’t. The damage that had been done to them seemed permanent. That was one atrocity for which Pelarus wasn’t responsible. Off the top of her head, she couldn’t think of anything else that wasn’t. At least, nothing related directly to her. She wanted to work up more hatred toward him, wanted to make him atone for the deaths of her mother and brothers, but nothing would bring them back now. However, the culture and environment of Haedus Nine could be restored. That is, if the methods Moe told them about were even possible. In many ways, the planet seemed too far gone to save. Better to relocate the remaining population. There couldn’t be very many.

  “You’re thinking again,” Temfilk chided with a lilting tone.

  She slapped her palms on the table and glared at him. “When haven’t I been thinking? I’ve been focused on keeping us safe and finding our next meal for so long, you should be used to it.”

  “Yes, but right now, you don’t have to concern yourself with those things. You have Moe now. You should learn to relax more.”

  “I would’ve relaxed plenty if you’d gone ahead and had breakfast without us,” she retorted. “Besides, how could I possibly relax when I’m charged with spearheading a revolution? That’s a much heavier responsibility.”

  Moe cleared his throat. “I think we need to come up with a different topic. Hot tempers are bad for the digestion, or so my mom always told me.”

  “That is quite true,” Velkma said. “Mealtimes should be joyous and convivial, otherwise the food is wasted.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far,” Nexbit said. “Food eaten is never wasted.”

  Temfilk rolled his bulbous eyes. “Maybe not on you.”

  “Please, just stop,” Klara begged as the room began to spin. “I don’t…feel well.” She lurched sideways, gripping the edge of the table in a desperate attempt to remain upright.

  “Wow. That was fast,” Moe said under his breath.

  “What are you talking about?” She had never felt this bad in her entire life. Not from grief, illness, injury, fear, or starvation. And it had struck her with less warning than a pulse blast in the dark.

  Moe peered at her as though examining a rare and fascinating specimen. “Feeling a bit dizzy, are you?”

  “Why do you keep asking me that?” Klara knew there was some significance to being dizzy, but at the moment, she couldn’t recall what it was.

  “Just checking.” He leaned closer, bringing his intoxicating scent with him. “Well… Are you dizzy or not?”

  Her affirmative reply was more of a hiss than an actual word.

  “Thought so,” He leaned back in his chair, nodding. “It usually doesn’t happen that quickly. Should’ve taken a few months at least. Guess we’re what they used to call a match made in heaven.”

  Klara wanted to slap him. “Will you please stop babbling and tell me what’s wrong with me?”

  “I can’t say for certain, but I’m guessing you’re experiencing your first fertile period. Another round of nooky and the resulting pregnancy will make the dizziness go away. All you have to do is decide whether feeling better now is worth having triplets later.”

  Chapter 16

  Now that he’d said it, Klara wondered why she hadn’t made the connection herself. Then again, while she might have heard about the symptoms of a Zetithian woman’s fertile period, she had never actually felt them. Nor was severe dizziness the only effect. Her normally sharp-witted mind seemed a bit sluggish.

  She pressed her fingertips to her forehead, hoping to push some clarity back into her brain. “So you’re saying I’m not preg
nant yet, but getting pregnant will make this awful feeling go away? Immediately?”

  “From what I understand, it does,” Moe replied. “And once you’ve conceived, regular sex will prevent morning sickness, and to make sure you get plenty of snard, I’ll crave you as much as you crave me.”

  “Regular sex?” she echoed. “In the middle of a revolution? Are you crazy?”

  “If I am, it’s because of you.” He leaned closer, drawing in a deep breath. “You smell absolutely incredible.”

  “My scent has changed that much in the past ten minutes?”

  He shifted in his chair, rather uncomfortably, she thought. “Um, yeah, it has.”

  “Are you sure I’m not already pregnant? I mean, it hasn’t been that long since we, um…” Somehow, in present company, she couldn’t bring herself to name the deed.

  “Not unless your symptoms are different from every other Zetithian woman’s,” Moe declared. “Dizziness in a Zetithian woman means fertility, not pregnancy.”

  “Talk about inconvenient,” Nexbit grumbled. “Your timing really sucks, boss.”

  Temfilk popped his fingertips in patent delight. “I think it’s fabulous. The more sex you have, the better.”

  “Maybe you think that now,” Klara drawled. “A few minutes ago, you were the one calling a halt to the festivities.”

  Temfilk had the good sense to appear contrite. “Sorry. Didn’t know it was becoming a necessity. Don’t know shit about Zetithian biology.”

  “Yeah, well up until yesterday, neither did I.” Klara closed her eyes, hoping to at least slow down the reeling images, but to no avail. “I can’t function like this. I’m beginning to wish I’d never gotten up.”

  “Just say the word and I’ll carry you back to bed,” Moe said promptly. “Believe me, it’ll be a pleasure.”

  A peek at his lap showed precisely how much of a pleasure it would be. For both of them. “Don’t you want to eat something first?”